pleased me: weapons and thrills.
“I think this is the Duchess Louise’s husband’s room,” Nora observed. “Gorgeous decoration. Why do they care so much about these rooms and have not sold anything… or at least why not show it as a museum exhibition?”
My spouse was clearly caught up in our investigation.
“Good question,” I simply responded.
“Anton, I think I can read some entries from the duke’s diary: “She came down from the carriage so easily. She became as thin as a girl; her hair became better: stronger and shiny… as if she were a young girl. It had a more beautiful, darker color, too.”
“I can’t understand further… ah, here: “The nails have become longer and whiter. She tried to hide her face, but it was hard to hide. I couldn’t help noticing that her lips were bloodshot; they turned red like the garnets in her ears. Her eyelashes have become longer and darker. And the unnatural blush was clearly not paint. I asked if she had a fever, but she shook her head and said she wanted to have a rest from the road. She was definitely hiding something. She seemed ashamed and hurt. But she didn’t want to talk about it. I’ve known my wife for too long.”
“If my French teacher had heard me, she would have been proud of me!”
“Maybe you shouldn’t read any more. Why would you want to dig into their private life?” I was genuinely perplexed.
“I don’t know. I just have to; I want to. Just support me, please.”
At that moment, Nora was so touching. Of course, I couldn’t refuse her. But this preoccupation with the Middle Ages frankly began to frighten me.
“Okay, read on,” I replied.
““The strangest thing is that I’ll never forget her skin at that moment. It became pearly white and very beautiful; and her freckles disappeared. All the tan came off. In combination with the red velvet she wore and the garnets in her ears, her skin looked especially bright and radiant.
““She walked like an unearthly creature; it seemed to me that she was 16 again. Her waist became narrower with no traces of all her pregnancies. She hugged me so tightly and carnivorously that I was surprised… and I felt weak. Apparently, I missed her too much.”
“God, how romantic it is! He describes her so beautifully!” My wife made a childishly dramatic face.
“Yes, but a strange description… pallor was probably considered sexual,” I replied.
“In the Middle Ages pallor was at the peak of fashion… the symbol of a woman’s purity. However, dark hair was considered a sign of a predisposition to evil.” Nora loved to study history.
“Times have changed a lot. Apparently, he hadn’t seen her for so long that she seemed to him more beautiful than usual. Is there anything else interesting?”
“Here’s an entry for 16.10.1452: ‘The night spent with my wife exhausted me, although I was waiting for her so much. I must have gotten older. This is strange. She was weird and wild. I asked if she had a fever, but she only shook her head and said she wanted a rest from the road. She was clearly hiding something. My duchess seemed ashamed and hurt.’”
“Maybe she was really a witch?” I grinned as I grabbed my wife’s hand.
Suddenly a strong wind blew through the window. The shutters rustled. I even shuddered a little but quickly pulled myself together.
“Don’t scare me!” Nora shuddered. “Listen. There’s more: ‘21.10.1452, I constantly feel unwell after spending time with my wife. I must be sick.’”
“Either she was an insatiable or the duke started having problems,” I decided to joke again. “However, this does not explain anything.”
“I agree,” Nora responded. “Here’s more: “Entry from 09.11.1452, “I had a very serious conversation with my wife. She told me all the details of the trip and that she had found a remedy for our misfortune. This requires urgent measures; delay can cost lives. We are worried about our children. We will take them to a safe place. Then my wife will finish the job. We will save our family. I am sure that the Lord will not leave us.”
“Wow! Anton, something has happened in this family; it’s obvious! The children’s rooms look so strange! How can you explain that?”
“I agree, there is some mystery here. Something serious has happened in this family which the lying count does not want to talk about. Frankly, I am sure that the count knows everything, but this information is not for outsiders.”
Nora continued reading, “‘Her hugs are suffocating. She began to hug people often as if it could save her from something or give her strength. Louise sometimes tries to squeeze me forcefully with her fingers or pinch me. It’s like she gets vitality from it.’ Horror… our duchess loved BDSM,” Nora laughed.
“And she was very promiscuous, apparently.” I was also amused by all the pornography of the 15th century, but there was something disturbing in these records.
“I think we won’t have time to read everything; we have to go upstairs,” commanded my wife. “Clearly, there is a dark secret in this family, especially since the count mentioned that the duchess was a witch. Frankly, I’m a little scared of these records. What could have happened to her?”
“We can’t assume anything. It doesn’t look like a disease; it’s just some kind of madness. Come on, honey.”
Nora’s diary
We walked up to the fourth floor. There we were surprised even more than before: the big, oak door opened with a creak; and the first thing we saw was… ourselves! I know it sounds like nonsense. However, this was exactly the impression created by a huge, Gothic mirror about two meters high and framed with carved wood in the imitation of a Gothic cathedral’s rooftop. It was racy and a bit frightening. The mirror created a sort of corridor… truly the room of a magical witch. It was no less than the queen’s room!
To the left of the mirror was a dressing table, also carved from brown wood. To the left of the dressing table was a wall that divided the room almost in two with carved images of biblical scenes and other medieval themes.
I must say this room had a resemblance to the nursery upstairs as it was almost entirely decorated in carved wood. However, it was obvious that it belonged to an adult.
On the right side of the mirror there were a desk, a book stand, a window, and a huge fireplace. An amazing sight was the window which looked out onto the fields.
“I wonder if all the duchesses lived like this,” I said to my husband in a half-whisper; I was shocked.
To say that the room was gorgeous is to say nothing. Tapestries hung behind the furniture, large and soft. On both sides of the door were tall, Gothic, open wardrobes full of medieval clothes. Dresses and hats seemed to be everywhere. It was clear that they were all made of a rather chic fabric, embroidered with semiprecious stones.
I had an overwhelming wish to touch them.
The dresses were made of velvet of different colors: powdery, mint, and turquoise and trimmed with fur. There were dresses made of satin, mostly with a high waist and open chest as befitted the Burgundian fashion of the 15th century.
One dress attracted me especially – I couldn’t take my eyes off it. It felt as if some very stormy and important experiences were connected to it. It was a warm dress made of heavy, blood-red velvet. Made with a high waist, it was trimmed with silver threads and fur. The skirt was embroidered in the form of a cape – something like a petticoat – made of heavy brocade; and the sleeves were long and fairy-like and went down to the floor. Medieval women dressed much brighter than modern ones.
In one